You Don't Get to Do That
by Kara1626
Summary: Peter deals with Neal's escape from prison. And sets a precident Neal's not too happy about. WARNING: Contains spanking of an adult. Not your thing? PLEASE do not read this story.


**WARNING: Contains spanking of an adult.**

**Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. I just borrow them.**

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me!" Peter pulled the note out of his pocket and checked the address again. Yup, this was the place. Leave it to Neal – the textbook definition of a con-artist. Look up "con-artist" in any dictionary, and right there should be a picture of Neal Caffrey. Peter let these thoughts fester as he was ushered up to Neal's "apartment".

He only half-listened as Neal described – in great detail – how he'd met June and how he'd managed to wiggle himself into her home. Neal offered him coffee. Even the coffee was amazing!

"I'll go finish getting dressed," Neal said standing up. The sudden movement was enough to pull Peter out of his pout. And it reminded him that he hadn't just come to pick Neal up for work.

"Not so fast," he said as he followed Neal inside. "We need to talk."

Neal felt his heart skip a beat, but he kept walking toward the armoire, hoping Peter hadn't noticed his sudden nervousness. He grabbed his jacket and turned around, hoping his face was as blank as he imagined it was. "What about?" he asked, then silently kicked himself for the fact that his voice was shaking just a bit.

Peter crossed his arms and leveled a glare at Neal. "You broke out of prison. Again."

Neal flung his jacket over his shoulder casually and started walking toward the door. "Oh come on, Peter. You caught me. That's all that matters, right?"

Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough and Peter was able to grab his arm as he sauntered past. He pulled the young man around to face him. "That is _not_ all that matters. You don't just get to run away from jail and not get punished for it."

"Ha! Punished? What am I? Seven?" Neal asked incredulously. He tried to pull his arm away, but found that Peter had a remarkably strong grip on it. He sighed resignedly. "Really?"

"Really," Peter said, still not releasing his grip.

"So what did you have in mind?" Neal asked, trying to sound unaffected. What was the worst Peter could do anyway? He was already essentially grounded thanks to his lovely new ankle bracelet.

But instead of answering, Peter grabbed Neal's jacket with his free hand, draped it over the arm of the couch, and then walked Neal toward the bed. Before he knew what was happening, Neal was bent face-down over the side of the bed. Only then did Peter release his arm.

Neal pushed himself up and whirled around to face Peter. "No way!" he cried as he watched Peter unbuckle his belt.

"Hey, don't do the crime, and all that" he said with a slight grin, pulling his belt out of the loops on his pants and folding it in half. Before Neal could make a break for the door, Peter grasped his arm, turned him around and made him bend over again.

"Peter!" Neal whined, "you can't!"

"I can actually," Peter explained patiently, his hand on Neal's back holding him in place. "You were released into my custody. You are my responsibility which means that when you screw up, you answer to me. Now quit your whining and let's get this over with. You don't want to be late on your first day."

"I don't want to OW!" Neal didn't get to finish his protest because the belt landed hard on the seat of his slacks. Before he could catch his breath, it landed again. In no time, Peter had found his stride and was delivering a very thorough spanking. Neal howled as the belt landed at the top of his thighs. "Enough!" he cried.

"I decide when you've had enough," Peter said, still spanking. Neal let out a strangled yell as the belt landed three times in exactly the same spot.

Ten minutes later, Neal sat slumped in the passenger seat as Peter steered the car though the busy streets. Neither had said anything since they'd left June's house, but Peter knew that unless he put a stop to it, Neal would pout all day.

"Are you ok?" he asked, already suspecting he knew what Neal would say. He wasn't disappointed.

"No," Neal snapped.

He was definitely pouting, which only confirmed to Peter that he'd chosen the correct punishment. "You deserved that and you know it," he said. He saw Neal turn in his seat so that his back was facing him as much as possible within the confines of a seatbelt. "Neal," Peter softened, "I'm sorry I had to do that, but you broke out of prison. You don't get to do that."

Neal considered this for a moment and had to admit Peter was right. But he still didn't have to agree with the punishment. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he asked, suspecting that Peter had gotten something sadistic out of taking a belt to him.

Peter turned to look at him, his mind spinning. "No! I did _not_ enjoy that." He sat quietly for a moment. "I didn't enjoy it," he said again angrily.

Neal studied the side of Peter's face and decided that he was telling the truth. But his butt still hurt, so secretly, he was glad he'd upset him by asking the question. The tension in the car was palpable for a few blocks and Neal started feeling guilty that he'd made Peter angry.

Suddenly, he had a thought. "What would your boss say if he knew you assaulted me?" he said, trying not to grin at his own cleverness in word choice.

Neal was bating him and he knew it. "He'd say, 'good idea, Peter. I don't know why _I_ didn't think of that'," Peter said, trying to hide his own grin.

As expected, Neal sulked for the last three blocks to the office.

Once they'd arrived, Peter ushered him into the elevator and pushed the button to take them up to FBI headquarters. As the elevator made its way up the floors, Neal steeled himself and carefully practiced his charming smile. He knew that if he showed up looking like a chastised little boy, someone might ask Peter what was bothering him. And he wouldn't put it past Peter not to tell someone – more like brag about – the truth. But before they faced anyone, Neal had to get an answer to the question that had been rolling around in his head since they'd left his apartment.

"Peter?" he said, tentatively.

"Hm?" Peter said, still staring at the closed elevator doors.

"You're never going to do that again, right?"

Peter turned around and looked at Neal quite seriously. "Actually, I think I've found a way to keep you in line and out of jail," he said with a slight shrug.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Peter walked out of the elevator then turned back to make sure Neal was following him. He tried not to laugh when he saw Neal standing there with his mouth gaping open. He failed.


End file.
